My husband and I were sitting in our final birthing class, watching a required video about cesarean sections. I had been feeling uncomfortable for much of the class, telling my husband I might go stand in the back of the room because I couldn’t find a comfortable position in my chair. However, I didn’t move. Instead, as a graphic appeared on the screen illustrating how, exactly, they get the baby out during a c-section, I felt my body temperature rise at an alarming rate. I took my jacket off . . .
Have you noticed? The days? They’re getting longer! I’m so happy. No offense to February, but I’m always happy to bid it farewell. March just sounds like spring. Sure, where I live we’ll still probably have a number of snowy days, but March feels like we’ve really turned a corner on our journey out of winter. The days are literally getting longer, and I’m fairly convinced I can notice every extra second of daylight. Oh, also, I’m sleeping for approximately six minutes per night, so that could . . .
I did a dumb thing. Don’t you hate it when that happens? Here's the thing: I recently told a little white lie to a sweet friend in a thoughtless moment. It was childish, and I felt the weight of guilt immediately. I knew I needed to tell my friend the truth but, due to conflicting schedules, I couldn’t get to her for several hours. The guilt ate at me. How am I supposed to raise a child when I’m still acting so childish? I cried to my husband, who heard my entire confession almost immediately . . .
I’m 34 today! I’ve arrived at another birthday and oh my GOLLY, am I grateful for more life. I’d had a feeling that 33 was going to be a big year. I’m not sure why—maybe it’s because I’ve gone to church my entire life and so the age of 33 sticks out to me as the age Jesus was when He left this earth. 33 was a memorable age for him so why couldn’t it be the same for me? And it was. I spent half of my year pregnant, growing the baby girl who I will finally get to meet within the first couple . . .
My unborn child has most certainly “popped.” There is no hiding this belly any longer and it won’t be going away anytime soon. Looking back, I am tempted to wonder when it happened. When did I become noticeably pregnant? For weeks, I waited to “show,” wanting my external body to model my internal reality. As my husband took weekly photos of my “bump,” I grew increasingly convinced that my pregnancy was obvious to the random onlooker. Now, however, when I look back on those early photos, I . . .
Last year, my husband and I had grand plans for New Year's Eve. Don't get me wrong, we had no intention of leaving the house, but maybe that's why we thought it was all so grand. We bought a couple of quality steaks and planned to pop open a bottle of red wine we had picked up in Napa Valley the year before. We would have a warm, quiet, delicious ending to 2016. When the day came, however, my husband wasn't feeling very well. His head cold grew worse as the day went on and we ended up . . .